29 ~ Stuck in Rain #2
"Zindagi abhi khatam nahi hui hai," I continued softly. "There are so many beautiful memories yet to come. But the most important thing is you. Tumhe strong rehna padega, kisi aur ke liye nahi apne liye, apne husband ke liye, apne family ke liye."
(Life isn't over yet. There are so many beautiful memories yet to come. But the most important thing is you. You have to stay strong, not for anyone else, but for yourself, for your husband, and for your family.)
She looked so pale, as if she hadn't eaten anything in days.
I hugged Tara. "Chalo, hum sab saath mein dinner karte hain."
(Come on, we'll all have dinner together.)
"Hume nahi khana."
(I don't want to eat.)
I immediately stood and looked at my wrist watch seriously.
"Theek hai, to phir ab hamare bhi ghar jaane ka time hogaya hai." I said pretending that I was offended and getting late.
(Alright, then it's time for us to go home too.)
Kartik's face snapped towards me as if he was trying to understand what I was doing.
I shot him a glare that silenced him.
Tara said, "Tum dono shaadi ke baad pehli baar ghar aaye ho. Khana toh kha ke jaiye."
(You both have come home for the first time after your wedding. At least have some food before you leave.)
I smiled innocently.
"Hum aapse milne aaye hain. Aur aap kha hi nahi rahe ho...to hum bhi kha ke kya kare."
(We came to meet you. And you're not eating at all... so what's the point of us eating?)
Tara stared at me for a moment then she finally sighed. "Theek hai."
(Alright.)
Dinner was quiet at first but slowly, Tara began talking.
By the end of the evening, there was finally a faint smile on her face.
Rukmani bhabhi glanced at Kartik and smirked.
"Waise Kartik, shaadi ke baad tum kaafi badal gaye ho."
(By the way, Kartik, you've changed quite a lot after marriage.)
Kartik frowned. "Bhabhi..."
"Pehle toh pure arrogant the. Ab dekho, kitne shaant ho gaye ho."
(Earlier, you were completely arrogant. And now look at you, you've become so calm.)
I couldn't help but chuckle.
Kartik shot me a look. "Chahat."
I shrugged innocently. "Maine toh kuch bola hi nahi."
(I didn't even say anything.)
Everyone laughed.
Later, when we finally stood to leave, Maa sa insisted, "Aaj raat yahin ruk jao."
(Stay here tonight.)
Kartik shook his head. "Agli baar."
(Next time.)
They kept insisting, but eventually, we managed to convince them.
Samarth nodded. "Take care."
Kartik hugged him before turning toward Tara. "Apna khayal rakhna."
(Take care of yourself.)
Tara smiled faintly and nodded.
We left together, and as we walked toward the car, I glanced back once.
For the first time since we'd arrived, Tara looked a little less broken.
By the time we reached the car the exhaustion of the entire day had finally begun catching up with me.
The moment I settled into the back seat beside Kartik, I let out a quiet sigh and rested my head against the window.
The car moved through the quiet roads, the gentle motion slowly making my eyelids heavier.
I tried to stay awake, but somewhere between one turn and the next, my head slipped from the glass and landed against Kartik's shoulder.
I immediately realised what I had done and tried to straighten myself, but my eyes felt too heavy.
He glanced down at me but didn't say anything.
Instead, he shifted slightly closer and adjusted my position, guiding me more comfortably against him so that my neck wouldn't hurt. His hand briefly steadied my shoulder before he turned his attention back toward the road.
I didn't have the energy to protest.
My head was resting against his bicep. It was comfortable.
My cheeks flushed slightly, but I didn't open my eyes. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to break this moment.
And then the car stopped. I heard the door open. Felt the shift of his body as he moved, before I could open my eyes, I felt myself being lifted.
His arms slid under me. One beneath my shoulders, the other beneath my knees. He lifted me effortlessly, as if I weighed nothing.
I let out a small gasp, my eyes fluttering open.
"Kartik..."
"Shh." His voice was soft. Gentle. "So jao."
(Go back to sleep.)
I blinked up at him.
His face was inches from mine. His eyes were dark, intense, but there was something soft in them. Something that made my heart flutter.
I rested my head against his chest.
I could feel his heartbeat beneath my cheek. It was steady, strong and soothing.
He carried me toward the helicopter.
The blades were already spinning, the sound loud and rhythmic. I felt safe in his arms.
He walked up the steps and into the private cabin.
He laid me down on the daybed.
I felt the soft cushion beneath me. Felt his hands gently adjusting my position. Felt his fingers brush a strand of hair from my face.
I opened my eyes again.
He was looking down at me.
"Chahat," he murmured. "Tum theek ho?"
(Are you okay?)
I nodded. "Haan. Bas thodi neend aa rahi hai."
(Yes. Just feeling sleepy.)
His lips curved in a soft, genuine smile that made my heart ache.
He looked at me for a second before picking up the blanket and gently covering me with it.
"Comfortable?"
I nodded sleepily but something was missing.
My pillow.
I shifted restlessly, trying to find a comfortable position, before finally moving closer to him. Without thinking too much about it, I rested my head against his thigh.
He froze. I could almost feel the surprise in his stillness.
Neither of us spoke.
Then I felt his fingers slowly moved through my hair, brushing the strands away from my face with an unexpected gentleness.
I closed my eyes.
The steady rhythm of his touch relaxed me almost instantly.
I didn't know when the exhaustion finally won.
I only knew that the last thing I felt before falling asleep was Kartik's fingers softly stroking my hair.
.
.
.
I woke to the faint movement of the chopper and the dull grey light filtering through the windows.
The moment I looked outside, I knew the weather had changed. The sky was covered with thick, dark clouds, and the rain that had begun.
Kartik noticed me looking outside and reached for my hand.
"Chalo."
(Come on.)
I placed my palm in his and allowed him to help me down from the chopper. The wind was cold and sharp, carrying the smell of rain with it.
Kartik opened the passenger door for me.
He glanced toward the driver.
"It's okay. I'll drive."
The driver immediately stepped aside.
I settled into the passenger seat while Kartik walked around to the other side and got behind the wheel. The engine started, and within minutes we were leaving the helipad behind.
For the first few kilometres, everything seemed perfectly manageable.
Then the rain came down. Not a drizzle. Not even ordinary monsoon rain. It suddenly began pouring as though someone had opened the sky.
The windshield disappeared behind a curtain of water. He switched on the wipers, but even at their fastest setting, they struggled to keep the glass clear.
He slowed the car.
I looked outside.
The road was already covered with muddy water, the edges overflowing into the surrounding fields and trees.
"Lagta hai subah se baarish ho rahi hai," he murmured.
(It looks like it's been raining since morning.)
I nodded silently.
The traffic ahead soon became impossible.
A long line of vehicles stretched as far as I could see, their headlights glowing through the rain. Cars were barely moving. Trucks stood almost motionless, and people who had gotten out were standing beside their vehicles, helplessly staring at the flooded road.
He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel.
"This is going to take forever."
He took a different route, turning onto a narrower road that appeared significantly less crowded.
For a few minutes, I actually felt relieved then we reached another jam.
His jaw tightened.
He turned on the radio.
The cheerful music that had been playing earlier was gone.
A news bulletin had taken over.
"Due to extremely heavy rainfall across several regions, commuters are advised to avoid unnecessary travel. Several roads have been blocked because of waterlogging, while traffic movement remains severely affected.
Authorities have advised motorists to remain where they are until weather conditions improve..."
I looked at Kartik.
He didn't say anything.
The radio continued with warnings about poor visibility, flooded roads and further rainfall expected throughout the night.
We hadn't even covered half the distance and the road ahead looked worse than the road behind us.